Carnations
by whenthemarshmallowmettheslayer
Summary: "Open," she commands instead of asking if Uta has actually taken time to feed himself. (Itori is energetic not stupid despite the part, the fool, she likes to play.) She steps closer, her heels click against the floor, and she offers her palm against his mouth. Uta takes it. His teeth bite down on the eye and petals.


A/N: If you want more stories or quicker updates check (if this is a multi chapter fic) out youngjusticewriter on ao3.

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Itori shoves the stripped flowers into Uta's chest. Her smile is bright while Uta stares down at the carnations.

"Hello," Uta says because Itori won't as he stares down at the flowers with curious dark eyes. His tone is affronted if you know him well and that Itori did.

The tone of his voice makes Itori laugh despite the frustration and loneliness she's felt over the last two days. (It's funny in an ugly way how you can be in a crowded place and feel lonely, Itori muses with a smile still gracing her red lips. That's the thing about comedy though: it's often at the expense of others.)

"Kaneki Ken-kun visited yesterday," Itori brightly refers the information but then her tone changes with a pointed glare, "unlike some people. You've been working too hard so I got you these."

(They both know it's a human tradition for the man to gift the woman with flowers, but neither truly care.)

Itori's thumb, covered in black nail polish unlike the rest of her fingers, strokes the flower's petals. There's so many of them, they spill out over one and another, toppling and pushing the others to the edge of the flower. The flower is beautiful because of that but Itori didn't get them for the beauty.

Her heels click as Itori follows Uta deeper into his mask shop. He lays the flowers over his cluttered desk because Uta doesn't have a vase for flowers. Now that Itori is thinking about it she's pretty sure Uta only has jars for his collection of eyeballs and dicks to eat.

Perfect, Itori thinks and does her smile grow. It barely takes any time for her to locate the jar for the eyes that can stare but never blink. Itori grabs a grey eye. It's a few shades darker than the one Uta wants once they get their laugh but it will do. Water falls down Itori's palm as she holds the eye and, with her other hand, snags some petals from one of the carnations. Itori sprinkles less than a handful of the petals on her palm. The rest in her other hand fall to the floor; it's okay, Uta doesn't mind eating off it.

"Open," she commands instead of asking if Uta has actually taken time to feed himself. (Itori is energetic not stupid despite the part, the fool, she likes to play.)

She steps closer, her heels click against the floor, and she offers her palm against his mouth. Uta takes it. His teeth bite down on the eye and petals. Tiny blood vessels break and it's not just water in the palm of her hand. Itori's fingers plays with Uta's untied and messy (he's really buried himself in work) hair as he eats from her other hand.

"Kaneki Ken-kun had to tell me a story for information about Kanou. He told me about a foreign goddess who had made the flower your eating. Unlike her brother who made hyacinths from love the goddess had made carnations in anger. She plucked the eyes out of a mortal and when they fell to the ground Artemis turned them into the ground so the man would forever be torn from the ground simply for his beauty as a punishment for daring to ogle at her nakedness."

Uta's eyes are bright from her story, his tongue soft and wet as he eats from her hand. It's after he's torn into and shallowed every petal Itori removes her soaked palm to kiss him. It's harsh unlike how he ate from her - not that Itori would want it any other way. She smiles against his lips, blood having mixed in with her lipstick, and her hand still entangled with his hair before she pulls away. Itori's heels trample on the fallen petals as well as click against the floor.

Itori's bloodied and painted lips are in a smile (her eyes are not) when she turns around to face Uta.

"Don't be such a stranger next time," she tells Uta before she leaves without another word. Itori doesn't wipe the evidence from her hand as walks out onto the bustling street where human's eyes are prying because of nosiness or care.


End file.
